Distance
by Jess.91
Summary: Three-part Harry/Ginny songfic. From the physical distance to the emotional one, eventually they had to let it go and learn to live.
1. Waiting

**Well I started writing this out of writer's block for another story, and figured I might as well post it. It's only three chapters, and there's some time between them. Obviously, I don't own the lyrics used.**

**1. Waiting (I Can Wait Forever - Simple Plan)**

_So I try to find the words that I could say  
I know distance doesn't matter but you feel so far away  
And I can't lie  
Every time I leave my heart turns gray  
And I want to come back home to see your face_

God, she wanted them home.

She understood, of course Ginny understood, and there was a part of her that was immensely proud of all three of them for this. But she wanted them home, wanted them safe.

She was worried about them. So much so that dread was a permanent resident in her stomach, so much so that she felt nauseous every time she opened a letter from home, because this might be the one that told her that Ron and Harry and Hermione were captured or dead.

And she missed them. Under it all she missed them.

Now, she was sat on the window sill in her dorm, leaning against the side. She was freezing, but she couldn't sleep and liked to watch the rain.

Somewhere out there were three people she cared a lot about. Hopefully, they were alive. Ginny shivered, tried to push the thought away. And found she couldn't.

They might have been captured, and no one had told her yet. They might have been killed, and no one knew yet. Maybe, right now as she looked out at the rain, Ron and Hermione and Harry were fighting for their lives.

She closed her eyes. It had to be over soon. It just had to be. She couldn't take much more of this.

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It was raining, and Harry decided it was a good thing that it was his turn to keep watch. He'd feel bad about Hermione having to sit out here in this, and she'd just have got annoyed when he'd tried to talk her into swapping. Still, it was pretty miserable, sitting out in the cold, the rain falling so thick and fast that he could scarcely see.

His thoughts turned to Ginny. He tried to act casual, taking the map from his pocket, unfolding it, whispering the magic words. And his eyes moved swiftly over the diagram, found the little dot with her name. She wasn't in bed, he decided, looking at her dot thoughtfully. Stood by the wall? Why? Window, he realised. She was looking out of the window.

He stared at the symbol for several minutes, thinking about her, wondering. How was it at Hogwarts? How was she coping? Did she miss him? Was she thinking of him?

He shook his head, ran his hand through his hair.

They were no closer to ending this, he thought bitterly. No closer to freedom, no closer to seeing Ginny, or anyone else he cared about, again. He put the map away, then lowered his head to his hands.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was quiet, her hand gentle when it laid on his shoulder. "Are you...?"

"Fine." He muttered. He didn't have the energy to be embarrassed.

"I know it's hard." She whispered. "But it'll be worth it. In the end, it'll all be worth it."

"I know."

"The rain's stopping."

He looked back up, saw that she was right. The sky was beginning to lighten. If only, he thought wryly, his mood would lighten too. If only his life would.

They'd try, he knew, today, and tomorrow, and as long as it took, they'd try to find what they needed and end this. They'd try until they managed it, or until luck ran out and they died.

They'd just have to hope, and to wait.

------------------------

Her eyes stung with tiredness, and Ginny knew that she had only a little while before she had to be up and at her first lesson. With a sigh, she climbed off the windowsill, crawled into bed and willed herself to sleep. And knew that when morning came, she'd spend another day waiting.

_Another day without you with me  
Is like a blade that cuts right through me  
But I can wait  
I can wait forever_


	2. Tell Me

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed. **

**2. Tell Me (Kelsey – Metro Station)**

_Because, I'm always here for you  
And I'll be here for you  
I know, I know, I know  
I know how it feels  
Believe me, I've been there  
And I know, I know, I know  
I know what it feels like  
Tell me, Kelsey_

_  
_He couldn't stand it. She'd told him she wanted to be alone, and she'd gone outside. He'd let her. He figured now that that was a mistake, but he was trying to be understanding, trying to give her space. Her brother had died and there was a part of him that would always blame himself for it. He grieved as she did, and for those first few days, he let her be, too lost in his own thoughts and anguish to do more than look over at her a few times. It broke his heart to see her that way, so young and lost and in pain, and he had no idea how to help her.

But now she was outside, alone, in the rain, without a cloak or jacket. Annoyed, he turned away from the window. At the very least, he'd take her a goddamn jacket out. It was just stupid, standing in the rain in that thin little shirt, and he was going to tell her.

He paused at the back door, and just looked at her. She was in the middle of the garden, her face slightly raised, her arms crossed over her waist. He'd seen her wrap her arms around herself a lot in the last two weeks, but he never remembered her doing so before.

A way of comfort? A way of defending herself against the irrevocable fact that her brother was dead?

He crossed the garden slowly, and was soaked to the skin by the time he'd reached her. The rain was coming down fast and thick, but not hard enough to hurt.

"Ginny?" He murmured it when he reached her, but didn't touch her. He hadn't, not since the morning he'd killed Voldemort. He'd hugged her, tightly, and for a moment it was almost like being back to normal. But then everything that happened seemed to have fallen between them and created a wall. She was almost avoiding him – not just him, really, but everyone – and he didn't think she'd had real, human contact, since the second of May. There'd been much hugging that day, he remembered. And then, after...

She'd closed herself of from the world. From him.

"Ginny." He tried again, when he got no reaction.

"I said I wanted to be alone." There was none of the firmness or flat hardness to her tone, like there had been when she'd first made the request. Her voice was quiet, thin, almost childlike. (She was so young, too young to have seen what she'd seen, done what she'd done, lost what she'd lost.)

"It's raining." He stated, rather stupidly.

"I noticed. I like the rain." Liked the harsh coldness of the air. (It was so much easier to breathe out here.) Neither mentioned that she'd disliked the rain, before.

"You're not wearing a jacket. I, uh, I brought you one out." He held it out, flushed a little when she stared at him. She took the jacket from him, slipped it on, not mentioning how uncomfortable it was, with the jacket already having gotten wet and her shirt being soaked anyway.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He murmured, pushing his wet hair away from his eyes. "I'm sorry about Fred." He didn't notice her slight jolt at the name. "And I'm sorry – I'm sorry you got hurt." It tore at him, to see the marks, the scars, to have heard from Bill that she'd been hysterical at one point of the battle, with a sprained knee and covered in bruises. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

"I didn't need protecting." She muttered, her voice hard, showing a tiny glimpse of the old Ginny.

"You got hurt." He pointed out, slightly annoyed.

"I'm not a kid." She snapped, and then swore softly. She raised her face a little bit more, reslishing in the cold, soft fall of the rain on her face. "I'm not seventeen yet. Few more weeks. I guess I am still a kid. I don't feel like one."

"You've seen too much for that. Done too much." He murmured. "I'm sorry for that, too."

"Stop apologising, it's not your fault." Again, just a faint glimpse of the old Ginny, and her impatience with his tendency to assume blame. "You lost your childhood. Your entire childhood. I had most of mine, really." Maybe that would be comfort, one day, when she was ready to let go of her pain and anger and accept comfort, she mused.

She hadn't, Harry thought. Her childhood had ended at eleven, when the memory of Tom Riddle had tried to kill her.

"Thanks for the jacket, Harry. Go inside now." There was a plea in her voice, but he couldn't leave her here, in the rain, alone.

"No."

She looked at him, glared. "I want to be alone."

"Tough. I'm not leaving you again. I've done that too much. I'm here, now, I'll always be here for you. Talk to me, Ginny."

For a moment, she was tempted to pour it all out, to tell him all the thoughts and feelings that were tangled up in her head, to confess that she'd hardly slept in the last few weeks and whenever she did she had nightmares, to admit that she relived the battle every time she closed her eyes – or worse, worse she relived the moment when she'd seen _his_ body and realised she'd lost a brother forever. She wanted to say it all, and to ask about him – because she was worrying about him, worried for him, but couldn't bring herself to connect with him on any level – and she wanted to sob and hug him, press her face to his chest and just feel _safe _because she hadn't felt safe in so, so long and she was scared she never would again.

"I can't." She whispered. "I'm sorry. I can't." She turned, didn't look at him, but for a moment laid her hand on his arm. Then she walked away from him, into the house. He watched her go, let her go, and felt miserable.

And Ginny went to her room, stripped off her wet clothes, entered the shower, and felt miserable.

_And you never, ever let me in  
(Let me in)  
And you never, ever let me in  
(Let me in)  
And you never, ever let me in  
(Let me in)  
And you never, ever let me in_


	3. Let It Go

**Well, as I said, last chapter. So big thanks to everyone who reviewed and hopefully this chapter works.**

**3. Let It Go (Lithium – Evanescence)**

_Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.  
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...  
Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.  
Oh, but God, I want to let it go._

She was sick of herself. Ginny supposed that was a good thing, really. She was no longer OK with sitting around, alone, silent, drowning in her own emotions. It hadn't been long enough yet for her to be totally OK, totally back to normal, but she was starting to recognise herself again.

She'd had a breakthrough with Percy, hadn't she? She'd forgiven him for leaving, accepted him as her brother again. And Charlie, she'd stopped waiting for Charlie to leave. He would, of course. Sooner or later Charlie would go back to his dragons and she knew that would hurt her. But for now, he was staying, and she'd stopped waiting for him to leave, was no longer angry at him for it. She'd talked to George yesterday, and he'd made her laugh. Not the same as before, really, but she'd laughed, and he'd smiled and for a moment, just a moment, they could both forget just how far they had to go before they could resemble the family they'd once been. She supposed George had been as worried about her as she'd been about him. And she and Ron had had a long talk a few days ago, and she felt close to him again (Dared to feel close to him again without worrying that if she did she'd lose him, too). She'd managed to thank Bill for taking care of her _that_ night, when he'd found her in the battle in pain and in shock. And, a few nights ago, when she'd woke up with a gasp, tearing herself from a nightmare and waking Hermione in the process, she hadn't refused to talk about it and ordered Hermione to go back to sleep, she'd admitted the dream, admitted being scared and listened to Hermione's reassurances.

If she could talk to her brothers, talk about that night and the dreams it had left her with, even laugh a little, it was time to talk to Harry. (Or her parents, but since they'd ask how she was feeling and the standard response of "fine" would still be a lie, she decided she'd rather deal with Harry first. Her parents could wait until the next time she talked herself into being a capable, functioning person.)

Ron's bedroom door was open, Harry sprawled on the camp-bed staring at the ceiling. She knocked, and met his eyes when he turned his head. He sat up quickly. "Ginny. Hey. Hey, come in."

She walked slowly into the room, sat on the side of Ron's bed, facing him. "Hi. Um, how's it going?" Awkwardly, she tugged at Ron's quilt cover, lifting the material, letting it go, lifting it, letting it go. "The castle..."

"Slowly." He shrugged. "People are thinking we might have it finished by Hallowe'en, but I doubt it." She wouldn't feel guilty about not going along with him and Ron and the others, helping to rebuild Hogwarts. She wouldn't feel ashamed that the idea of going back to the castle made her hands shake and her heartbeat stumble. "How are you?" He murmured.

She shrugged. "Better. I...I'm feeling better. You?"

"Same. It, I guess it's getting a little easier to..." He trailed off, his colour darkening.

"Be normal." She finished for him.

"Exactly. Ginny...I don't know what to do for you. I don't know what you need." He shifted awkwardly. It was endearing, she thought, that awkwardness. It was OK to think that, now. OK to care about him.

"I don't know what you need, either." She replied. "Maybe we just need time." He'd given her time, she thought, however reluctantly. And now, even if she needed a little more, she was on her way to healing.

He nodded, looked at the floor.

"I was worried about you." She said conversationally. She had to be casual, had to be normal, because how else could she live?

"Me? About me?" He looked back up at her, stunned.

"Yeah. You had, you know, your whole guilt thing going on. I thought you might do something stupid."

For a moment, he only looked at her. "Like...what?"

"I don't know. Leaving, I guess." He always seemed to be leaving - but no, she wouldn't let herself get caught up in the anger and resentment at the injustice of it all. It was healthly. She wasn't going to be the angry, upset cut-off-from-the-world person she had been lately. She was going to be Ginny again.

"I think it would destroy mum if you left. And Ron and Hermione, I don't know what it would do to them."

"Oh." He didn't know how else to answer.

"And, uh," she started twisting Ron's quilt cover, "I don't think I'd like it if you left, either."

"Oh." His colour darkened again, and he tried not to look pleased.

"I'm sorry I...I was kind of avoiding you." She added, determined to get it all out.

"It's OK. I understand."

"I just couldn't...talk to anyone." Couldn't form the words, couldn't share her pain. She'd needed it to be hers, for reasons she couldn't explain, and needed to suffer it. (Maybe a part of her felt she ought to suffer something, because she'd survived, hadn't she, when so many others hadn't?)

"I know. It's fine."

They lapsed into silence.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"I sort of realised something, a while ago. And I think I should tell you. It's only fair to tell you." He wasn't meeting her eyes though, looking determinedly at the faded carpet.

"Tell me what?" Fear skittered along the back of her neck.

"I, um, sort of love you." He bobbed his head as he spoke, in a kind of nod. She felt the blood drain from her face.

"What?" Was that her voice? So high and squeaky?

"You were all I could think about. When I went into the forest, to, to..."

"To die." She muttered, and he flushed a little.

"Yeah. He had his wand on me, and I thought of you. I, um, I was thinking about it, after. It was 'cause of how I...how I feel about you."

"You...you can't say that to me." She spoke fast, panicky. She wasn't ready for this. "I – Jeez, Harry, we're not even together." It was _bad,_ she thought. Hadn't she hoped, once, for Harry Potter to say those words to her? And she supposed it was always nice to be told you were loved.

It just didn't feel right, for this to be happening, right after...

"I was hoping we could get back together." He muttered. "When you, ah, when you're ready."

"Oh. Well." She twisted her hands together. "I'd like that, I guess."

Had to live, she reminded herself. It wasn't normal, wasn't healthy to stay cut off from everyone, lost in misery, and it definitely wasn't what Fred would want. Had to let it go, let it all go, and try to have a life again.

_Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.  
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...  
Lithium, stay in love with you.  
I'm gonna let it go._


End file.
